


Cooking Lessons

by mintleaftea



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, dorky!Jason, implied eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintleaftea/pseuds/mintleaftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason was just trying to do something nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking Lessons

The creature’s hot spittle burned his arms even as Jason continued to attack it, his burns not dissuading him. The smell it gave off filled his nostrils and he tried convincing himself it wasn’t going to make him barf right then and there. To his left, a hissing sound drew his attention for a split second before the panic overtook him and he had to pull away to gather himself. He was a mess, he was teetering on the edge of retreat, never had he faced a challenge this great.  
The recipe was from a book called “Quick and Easy Italian meals in under 15 minutes (Kid Friendly!)” and Jason Grace didn’t know how he fucked up this bad. The pan holding the meatballs sputtered out hot oil ceaselessly and was emitting a dark fugue that he was about ninety five percent certain it wasn’t supposed to be doing. Behind him the charred remains of his several attempts at garlic bread smoldered, the black char perfectly matching the one at the bottom of the stainless steel pot (Piper was going murder him). He always thought that “so bad you can burn water” was a joke but apparently it’s something that could actually happen. Jason decided it was better not to even think about the mess all around the kitchen.  
Admittedly, Jason had a lot of talents, and he never had really needed to learn how to cook. By the time he was capable of taking care of himself, he was already living at Camp Jupiter, where all of his meals were made for him. Sure, he knew how to roast game on a camp fire, maybe, or worst comes to worst make ramen in a gas-station microwave during long quests but...well, let’s be honest, Jason was the leader, the commander, the warrior; cooking provisions was never a task delegated to him.   
That being said Jason was nothing if not determined, and, despite a complete lack of culinary ability, he did care deeply for his loved ones. One loved in in particular, in this case, one who hadn’t been eating more than a couple of bites a day and Jason was sure that was just to keep up appearances.  
It had been about a year ago, after falling into Tartarus and being trapped in a jar, when Nico di Angelo and Jason Grace had started actually interacting on a personal level. Obviously, after his ordeal, no one would expect Nico to be at the peak of health. But even after months, he had barely put on any weight, and his clothes (some of which he’d had since he was 11) hung off him in drapes. It was scary, it was unhealthy, and Jason wanted to make sure Nico was ok. At least...make sure Nico was alive. And do that, Jason had to make him eat something, anything, so long as there was food in his body. Jason had a clear end game here, ok, and he was going to achieve. He had thought that, maybe, coming back from a hard day of monster slaying to a home cooked Italian meal would remind him of happier times and he’d be so moved my Jason’s show of affection that he’d eat a full, decent meal. Well...theoretically a full decent meal, that part wasn’t going so well.   
Jason had just begun to ponder if there were any Italian restaurants nearby that did a decent carry out when the sound of a muffled, mirthful snort caught his attention.  
“What did you do? Was there a harpy attack in here or something?” Nico was leaning against the doorway, sword hung on his hip and trying unsuccessfully to hide the quiver in his legs but not trying to hide the blood stain on his shirt. He had obviously just gotten back from Monster Clean Up Crew.   
“Very funny.” Jason bit back, blushing in embarrassment from the proof of his failure.  
“No, seriously Jason, what did you do? It smells like,” Nico sniffed, “Burnt meat, smoke, and oregano.”   
“I was...I was cooking. Actually.”   
“Cooking? Cooking what, exactly? I didn’t know you cooked.” The son of Hades pried himself from the doorway and made his way unsteadily to the stovetop, standing beside Jason and inspecting the pans. “What are these? Are they supposed to be that color?”  
“They were meatballs. At least, they were meatballs before someone interrupted me.” Jason huffed, but couldn’t be that angry. He was shit at this, and at least Nico was smiling, that was something. He looked so cute when he smiled. Like a kid, like the way he should look.   
“I don’t think I’m your problem. Something’s on fire in the oven, by the way.” Nico nodded toward the black smoke emitting from the oven, before Jason yelped and ran to open it, taking the smoke in the face and coughing as he extracted a tray of black charcoal. “Garlic bread.” He muttered, before throwing it with the rest.  
“You’re not...that good at cooking, huh? Oh, and your pasta’s boiling over. Here,” Nico turned the dial on the stove until the frothing pot was still, “It’s over cooked already, and there’s crap at the bottom of the pot. You need to clean it first or else the noodles will taste like char. And meatballs are better baked, honestly. Plus you need to put some sort of lubrication on the pan, see, they’re sticking- you’re going to have to scour it.”   
Jason stared as Nico deftly began to clean his mess, almost on automatic. Nico seemed so comfortable moving around the kitchen, scouring the pan, pouring out the ruined pasta, disposing of the hunks of awful meatballs. Jason grabbed a wash rag and began to help, it was his mess after all. Nico didn’t say anything, focused on what he was doing, occasionally pointing Jason away to do something else and, under his direction, the kitchen was at least partially presentable.   
“So, you seem to know what you’re doing.” Jason said, offhandedly, as he dried his hands. Nico tensed his shoulders.   
“Yeah, well, cleaning isn’t exactly hard-”  
“Not the cleaning, well, yeah, I guess that too but...earlier. You were talking about cooking. Like you knew exactly how to do it.” There was a pause where Nico turned his back to Jason, “So do you you?”  
“Do I what?” Nico had his defenses up, which was the opposite of what Jason wanted. He came up behind Nico and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.   
“Know how to cook,” and before the other could snap back at him, “Maybe you could teach me. I was trying to make a meal for you, anyway.”   
Nico turned and looked angry, but he let Jason keep his hand where it was, which made Jason smile. “Why? I didn’t ask-”  
“I know you didn’t ask. I just thought it’d be nice. Sometimes, you know, I like doing nice things for the people I care about, just because I care about them, you know?”   
Nico couldn’t hide his blush before Jason saw it and his smile widened. He tentatively put his arm around Nico’s shoulders and, when Nico didn’t shake him, pulled him in for a side hug, “So what do you say? Teach me how to cook.”  
“Fine.” Nico grumbled, pulling away from Jason, “But only so you don’t embarrass yourself again.”   
The next hour was spent with Nico carefully guiding Jason through the steps of Spaghetti and Meatballs. When Jason showed him the recipe, Nico had scoffed, muttering something about Americans thinking they know how to cook Italian food and proceeding to actually be really good at what he was doing. Jason explained that he had used all the sauce before, Nico sent him out to get fresh tomatoes which he proceeded to peel and boil with something of an expert hand. He showed Jason how to shape the meatballs so they weren’t so big, and that no, actually, you don’t need an entire carton of eggs to hold them together, Jason, it’s fine. Nico’s hand brushed his as he demonstrated how to form them before Nico realized and quickly pulled away and left Jason to it before they slid the tray into the oven, Jason briefly explaining what all the buttons meant to a perplexed looking Nico. They put the pasta in the pot, Nico making sure it wasn’t too hot, and placing a lid over it.   
“Now we wait?”  
“Now we clean. At least, that’s what my mother taught me.” Nico smiled slightly, his eyes glossing over briefly before setting Jason to work again. In another half an hour or so, the two of them were sitting across from each other with plates full of pasta. It smelled delicious, Jason thought.  
“It smells delicious.” Jason said, grinning.  
“Well, eat it, then, moron.”   
“What about you? You made it. You get to eat it.”  
Nico stared at his plate, brow furrowed, as if he had forgotten what food was for. Which he might have. “I’m not-”  
“You are. Nico, please, it’ll make me feel better about my atrocious cooking. Just a bite. Here-” He held out a forkful of pasta from his own plate and thrust it toward Nico, “Just eat. You have to be hungry.”   
“Will you stop waving it in my face if I do, Grace? You’re making a mess.” Nico frowned  
“Open wide, aaaah-”  
“Gods, I’m not a child,” But Nico leaned forward and took a bite off of his fork, anyway. Jason grinned brightly. He was smiling a lot today. “Good?”   
Nico slurped up a noodle and nodded. “It’s alright.”   
Jason reclaimed his fork and unceremoniously took a bit for himself and let out a satisfied groan. He thought he saw Nico blush, but he probably imagined it. “It’s more than alright, it’s fantastic. You’re really talented, Nico.”   
There was silence, but Jason could tell Nico was pleased. “It’s really good, man! Come on, eat up. You don’t get dessert until you finish!”   
“I told you I’m not-” Nico was cut off from another mouthful of pasta being shoved in his mouth.  
“Not a child, I know, I don’t think you are. I just like taking care of you. After this you should teach me how to make brownies.”   
“I don’t know how to make brownies.” Nico said, wiping his mouth and scowling, but there was no effort in it.   
“Then we’ll learn together.”  
“You’re impossible.”  
“Nothing is impossible, Nico,” Jason winked at him, and shoved more pasta in his face before Nico could argue.   
Which, he didn’t, even after he swallowed. “I guess not.” Nico muttered, and Jason felt as though he meant more than just cooking, but couldn’t be sure. He was too distracted by Nico picking up his own fork and taking a bite of his own food of his own will and swallowing and smiling, not brightly like Jason, but smiling. And Jason didn’t think he’d ever be happier than when he could make this boy smile, and that the mess and the trash can full of burnt garlic bread was definitely worth it, and he might, just might, have to consider private cooking lessons.


End file.
